Aftermath
by KuroiKuroi
Summary: Spoilers on KnB-Extra Game. After the match, after everything, all had returned to normal. But can one really and truly forget what had once been? Akashi, this whole, complete Akashi, what does he remember of his past? My first fanfiction, please enjoy.


This is my first fanfiction, i have no idea about the system yet, please go easy on me.

These are the possible inner workings of Akashi Sejuurou, after, you know, all the crap hit the fan in that match :/

Disclaimer: everything Kuroko no Basket belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, who crushed my heart with it's ending. This one-shot takes place after Kuroko no Basket - Extra Game, so, **SPOILERS**.

Happy reading

 _ **Aftermath**_

They had won.

It was a close win, neither overpowering nor crushing the opposition like they had together so many other times, but a win nonetheless.

For someone with the Jabberwock's pride and ego, the one point was enough to humiliate them. Their conduct was beyond words, their attitude and the way the treated the sport he loved…especially when they dared to harm not only one, but two of his teammates. Although he did admit that they were worthy challengers, opponents that had finally brought out all the potential of the Generation of Miracles.

The match had ended spectacularly, the noise of the cheering crowd, the rush of satisfaction and pride and their hard-fought victory – their first in many years – had drowned out a nagging feeling in the back of his head. A nagging feeling that insisted that something was off, something was not right.

He, along with the rest of his teammates, had returned to their normal lives, back to being rivals, looking ahead, on to more practices, matches, and victories and loses… they all looked normal, Tetsu suffered from nothing more than a mild bruise – even if that moment which he had received it was still infuriating. Murasakibara was just about healed too, even if the amount of snacks, sweets and other various junk foods was anything but healthy. The others were just fine, each continuing down their own way of basketball. So why was he so…what was the right word for it? Anxious? No…he didn't feel anxious, on the country, he felt nothing.

It was not peace, it wasn't serene. It was a heavy, crushing silence that followed him wherever he was, awake or asleep. It felt, as cliché as it sounded, like a hole in his being, somewhere, that had to be filled. In fact, it felt very much like the days following his mother's death, hollow, a sense of loss, though not submerged in sorrow as his mother's passing. For a few days, he could not understand the reason behind this; why on Earth would he feel like when he had all he could want?

Until, at last, he put aside some time to think the problem through. The white static in his mind had been getting more and more prominent, particularly were he had looked into the mirror and caught a sight of his amber coloured eyes. Stepping into the bathroom, he braced both of his hands on the sink and gazed at himself straight in the face, preparing against the stab of…of…just a feeling of this all being wrong, somehow. Closing his eyes, which still didn't look nor feel right for some reason he could not explain, he tried to think back to the street ball match against the Jabberwocks that day.

Strangely enough, he had not scrutinised the memories of that day closely yet. There was something in there, a conversation…in the middle of the match? And not just one, either. There was a feeling, for a part of the match, right after the first 'conversation', that he wasn't moving, but rather as if he was looking through a window of his own perspective. Looking even further back, he realised that his memories were…not as memories should be. It felt like a computer, all the knowledge and necessary data downloaded and ready for use, but all of his emotions were dampened, dulled, numbed. As if he had felt everything as echoes of what they really were.

Even stranger were his actual memories. The entire first year in Rakuzan until the Winter Cup, and at least half of the last year in Teiko, were different from the rest. It was as if…there were two different people, sharing these memories. One would look on from a window, while the other experienced. He felt like the outsider. The third wheel. He, Akashi Sejuurou, was a stranger in his own mind.


End file.
